


Don't Tell Me Anything At All

by zlilyanne



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-23
Updated: 2015-08-05
Packaged: 2018-04-10 21:53:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4409219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zlilyanne/pseuds/zlilyanne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He didn't hate Chekov.... he just didn't adore him either. Leonard had his reasons and they were reasonable, so he didn't see why everyone made such a fuss about it. It's not like the kid was offended or anything... Right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [itsoktobemarty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsoktobemarty/gifts).



> Teaser for this thing I could write maybe. For itsoktobemarty on Tumblr. if you want more please send her a note or a poke and force her to return to the wifi.

It’s not that he hated Chekov, heck he didn’t even dislike the kid. Non-dislike usually earned him teasing remarks from Jim about marrying someone, just not with Chekov, because apparently the only proper response to Pavel Andreievich Chekov was adoration, and anything less was hatred.

There was nothing wrong with the kid exactly. He was attractive, polite, and enthusiastic in a very charming if naïve way. It seemed that every time Len had an occasion to see Chekov the kid was radiating excitement, his thin arms gesturing wildly and his mouth moving at a mile a minute trying to explain anything and everything. And there in lay the problem. Most people were more than happy to learn something cross discipline while on the USS Enterprise, it was after all an expedition force jam packed with nut jobs (in Len’s personal opinion anyway). Len could even consider himself one of them some of the time, picking up bits and pieces from the other people stuck on this space can. Not from Chekov though, never from Chekov.

See the thing wasn’t that he hated Chekov, it wasn’t anything to do with the kid at all actually, it was just that when it came to the _space_ part of spaceship Len just _truly_ , _sincerely_ , and _100%_ did NOT want to know. He didn’t want to know how the airlock sealed, or how molecules shifted during transport, he didn’t want to know about the asteroid field they were navigating through, and he especially didn’t want to know what amount of force it would take to crack the observation deck windows. So while Len didn’t hate Chekov, he much preferred to only see him on rare occasions, say when the kid was unconscious, or bleeding, or maybe hallucinating from something or other sickness they picked up from God knows where.

And if the result of this preference led to avoiding Chekov, well it couldn’t be helped, they were both busy people and Len was sure it wasn’t a problem, in fact he doubted the kid even noticed.

 

The universe loved to prove Leonard McCoy wrong apparently.


	2. No. Just No.

“Get on the transporter Bones.”

 

“Like hell I will Jim, Hobgoblin here just got finished telling us it'll go awol and turn us all into space dust!”

 

“That is not what-” Spock attempted to argue before McCoy cut in.

 

"Furthermore you're not even cleared for away missions yet! You've got two more days of medical leave before I'm satisfied your not gonna keel over." 

 

Jim Kirk scowled, jabbing a finger at the transport pad next to him, "Get. On."

 

"Hell. No." McCoy said scowling right back at him, while the rest of the crew looked on with what could easily be confused with amusement.

 

"We've got orders Bones, ' Stop further spread of Withersickness in the Kinos system by immediately vaccinating the population of Kinos IX.' sound familiar? Now, you are coming to the planet and that's an order Officer." 

Captain and CMO continued to stare at each other from across the transport room in what would have been an intimidating display if it weren't so common. As it was it gave of more of a temper tantrum feeling than a serious conflict. It was McCoy who finally caved.

 

"Fine."

"Good, then get over here and-" Jim started, relaxing from his stiff posture before being curtly interrupted by his CMO.

"But I'm taking the shuttle down." 

"Fine you crazy man! Do what you want as long as you get there! Honestly... only you would choose a shuttle in a ion storm over a transport." Flipping open his communicator he called out. "Chekov take Bones planet side in Galileo . And don't loose him along the way I need him."

The line crackled before at quick "Aye, Keptin" was heard. 

Jim glared one last time before turning to the Ensign behind the transporter console. "Energize"

 

McCoy let out a sigh as the captain swirled away in the golden light of transport. _'Gotta die sometime I suppose'_  . Opening his own comm unit he sent a quick message to medbay ordering the supplies to be loaded up into Galileo before heading to the turbolift to take him to Shuttle Bay 1, and if his usual clipped walk was reduced to more of a shuffle, well you can't blame a man for trying to put off his own execution can you? McCoy's slow pace meant that even though the transporter room was closer than the bridge, Chekov was already at Shuttle Bay 1, practically bouncing with excitement while taking with the launch crew.

' _Great, just, great.'_ McCoy thought sarcastically ' _This is exactly what I need now, an encyclopedia of flight facts so at least I know whats happening as I crash to my death.'_ _  
_

"Ensign" 

"Doctor McCoy! You do not need to look so vorried, I vill take good care of you and Galileo. I have already rerouted the shielding to act as dampeners in order to nullify the effects of the ionic-"

McCoy put up his hands as though defending himself from the information Chekov was trying to share.

"Woah there kid! No details, honestly let's just get this over with, yeah?" 

 

Climbing in and strapping himself down after a now less bouncy and enthusiastic Ensign Chekov McCoy sent a quick prayer to whatever was listening. Everything started off the standard, if still discomforting way. Shuttle bay doors opened, Galileo lifted off and exited into the the black of space before turing towards Kinos IX. Or the roiling black and red ionic shit storm that was currently the atmosphere of Kinos IX.

Leonard McCoy had seen a lot of things in his time on the _Enterprise,_ he sure as hell wished this hadn't been one of those things. "I changed my mind kid!" He practically yelped (in a gruff, manly southern way) "I'm needed in the medbay, I've got.. I've got... something that has to be done right now goddamn it! I'll send M'Benga! Just take me back now!"

 

"Nyet," Chekov replied, barely glancing his way "ve vill go planet side as the Keptin ordered." He then proceeded to jackknife the shuttle straight down into the storm, all the while calmly explaining why the dampeners would hold against the atmosphere, while Leonard McCoy, best Chief Medical Officer in Starfleet, yelled at the top of his lungs. Twenty minutes later when they touched down McCoy's voice was hoarse, one hand clamped to his armrest and the other fisted tightly in the gold fabric of Chekov's uniform, bunching the fabric at his shoulder and stretching the collar out. Chekov had given up explaining about five minutes in, when a upwelling draft had jostled the craft causing McCoy to reach over and clutch at him while staring wide eyed into the storm and yell louder. No use trying to talk over McCoy when he was at normal voice levels, let alone screaming. Now Chekov just looked over at the shell shocked Doctor, who was still clutching his shirt like a life line in open space. 

 

 

"See, perfectly safe vith me!" Chekov declared, unperturbed, when the doctor turned a stiff somewhat disbelieving look on him.

 

"Sure kid, just, get me the hell off of this thing" McCoy said after a minute of staring. 

 

Disembarking took longer then usual as Chekov physically peeled the tensed up CMO out of his chair set up a chair outside and sat him in it, which took even longer because he didn't bother reclaiming his right shoulder from McCoy's death grip. Hey, it was nice to be needed, especially by someone who usually seemed to avoid him like 13th century Terran  plague. Once sitting on solid ground it took another five minutes for the doctor to release his hold, pulling back one finger at a time then flexing his hand to reintroduce circulation.

"Ok kid. You comm that hell-spawn Captain of ours and tell him I'm on this death trap of a planet just like he wanted, so he better get his ass over here. And tell him if he so much as  _looks_ at the food here before I scan it for allergens I'll hypo him."

 

Chekov nodded, trying not feel disappointed by the dismissal, before turning to reenter the shuttle and grab his comm unit. As nice as it would be if McCoy actually _liked_ him it didn't seem likely to happen spontaneously. Not that Pavel Andreievich Chekov was going to settle for anything less than he deserved just because it would take effort. He deserved McCoy's friendship and respect at the very _least,_ and he was going to get it. McCoy was all bluster and no bite anyway, mild as a Southerner's winter so to speak. It wouldn't be to hard to overcome whatever it was that made the doctor hate him in the first place. Once he found out what it was. And Chekov _would_ find out, he wasn't called a genius for nothing. No, Leonard McCoy would be his new project, and with all the force of his mental might focused on him, he was sure to crack, and then they could be... friends or something. Mind made up Chekov flipped open his com.

"Chekov to Keptin Kirk..."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Running wild with no beta in sight. See a typo? tell me so I can fix it. also please don't get attached I am a terrible "not finisher of things". Bribe for the Marty Party.


End file.
